


A Thousand Words

by dlester (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, M/M, art fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/dlester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan joins an art class because he fancies a girl in it, but then he meets Phil, who he finds out started drawing for a very different reason. Slowly he begins to realise that the girl is not the only thing keeping him there, and he learns a lot from the strange boy.</p><p>edit: now available in Russian!!!<br/>https://ficbook.net/readfic/3761467</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly - just letting you guys know that I've relocated this fic from tumblr to AO3, I've set up the /atw page of my blog to redirect here!!
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has given me support and amazing feedback while writing this, it really means so much! This is the first ever chaptered fic that I've written, and it seriously has been such a great experience as it allowed me to develop my writing skills in such a productive environment!
> 
> I am honestly so grateful for all the lovely messages, comments, kudos and reblogs on tumblr, it makes me so happy if I was able to entertain you in any way!! You can probably tell I put a lot of myself into this - although the writing style may not be as expressive and flow as well as I hoped (or thought at the time), I tried to put a lot of meaning into it and try to get across a message that I believe in!!
> 
> I'm kind of sad to say that I won't be finishing this - Don't get me wrong, this was a great time in my life and I got so much from this experience!! I am just no longer comfortable with writing this pairing. That doesn't mean I'm looking down on anyone or regretting this or anything!! My opinions & enjoyment of things have simply changed as a year has passed, and I hope you guys can understand that.
> 
> IT IS however still readable as it is - of course there is a lot more that I hoped to explain & Phil's whole mysterious backstory to deal with, but I'd like to think it ends in a relatively nice way at the point in the story that I got up to!!!

Dan’s pen glided across the bottom of his exercise book, thin blue lines spidering their way across the crinkled paper like veins in a piece of marble. These lines were slightly less random than that though, instead twisting and turning and branching off each other to imitate the shape of a tree outside the window. He absent mindedly twirled his biro between his fingers before scribbling in a few more leaves where it was looking a bit sparse, curving the shape to travel gracefully up the margin of his page.

“Dan,” he heard a voice hiss from beside him. He looked up to see his best friend Pj nudging his arm, obviously after trying to get his attention for quite a while.

“Mr Howell, good to see you’re with us,” Mr Robinson spoke from across the room, sternly peering through his spectacles and making Dan groan. “Maybe you can explain to us, what the difference is between a positron and a proton?”

“Uhhh…” Dan thought for a few seconds, racking his brain trying to remember what they had learned that lesson. To be perfectly honest, he hadn’t been paying attention at all, his focus instead mostly taken up by the rattling of twigs against the window and the way the sunlight caught the hair of the girl in front of him. He was lucky there was even space left in his exercise book to write, as most of the delicately ruled pages were instead filled with sprawling doodles rather than scientific diagrams and explanations.

“I don’t know.” He concluded, much to the rest of the class’s amusement.

“I see,” Mr Robinson said, fixing Dan with a pointed stare, along with everyone else in the class seated in front of Dan who were all kindly turned around to face him. They slowly turned back to the front though as their teacher began explaining the correct answer, Dan also returning to his previous state and zoning out again, this time finding a lot more interest in the way the second hand of the clock had a slight bend in it, and noticing the way that Sandra Marshall’s brown ponytail curled slightly and ended in a golden shimmer.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, and they all packed up and left for the end of the day, a few people smirking at Dan as they passed. Luckily Mr Robinson wasn’t all that strict, and Dan was able to escape the room that afternoon without punishment, unfortunately not without a towering pile of homework though.

“I don’t know why you’re even taking Physics,” Pj remarked as soon as they were out of the room and walking down the corridor, the pair of them heading towards the exit to walk home.

“It wasn’t really my choice,” Dan grumbled in return, scraping his feet along the ground as he thought of his father who had been ready with a list of boring subjects to study as soon as he was old enough to choose. Of course he did alright at them, but there was only a certain amount of freedom left when you already had your entire career path set out for you. “I just wish I was doing something I actually found interesting,” he continued, running his timetable through his mind and having to physically hold himself back from groaning out loud.

“What, you mean like Sandra Marshall?”

“Shut up!” Dan elbowed Pj in the ribs, a blush sweeping across his cheeks. “That’s not what I meant,” he laughed.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you were thinking it,” Pj teased, smirking at Dan’s flushed complexion. It had been obvious for weeks that Dan fancied her, and Pj couldn’t help but poke fun at it since Dan had admitted his true feelings.

Dan thought about her sweeping hair and dazzling eyes, and how nice she seemed when she was talking to other people, but then remembered they hadn’t even had a proper conversation yet. “I wish I actually had a chance to talk to her though, I’m so bad at talking to girls.”

“No you’re not,” Pj said, turning to look at Dan as they neared the doors. “You haven’t even tried… just find something you have in common and ask her about it.”

Dan thought for a few seconds but turned up blank. “Like what? The fact that we both don’t know what an electron is?”

Pj laughed, rolling his eyes at Dan. “I heard she likes drawing, maybe ask her about that”

Dan thought for a moment about how he could go about it. Somehow he thought it would seem a little strange walking up to a girl he had barely talked to before and telling her he’d heard she likes drawing, and so does he, and how that somehow meant they should go out together.

“How am I meant to bring that up? And how do you even know that?” Dan quickly added, slightly surprised that Pj knew more about her than he did.

“Oh, she does an art class with one of my sister’s friends… you could probably sign up for it if you wanted?” Pj said nonchalantly.

He had hardly finished his sentence though when that very thought crossed Dan’s mind.

“Yeah! …  maybe, well… I can’t just turn up out of the blue, can I?” Dan tried not to sound too eager as he pounced on Pj’s words.

“Probably, it’s run by Mrs Avery down beside the library so it shouldn’t be too much trouble.” Pj smirked at him, giving him a knowing look. “Although I’m sure it would be because you are totally interested in drawing, not for any other reason?”

Dan laughed, shaking his head, “I’ve actually wanted to try out art classes for a while now… Shut up!” He grinned at Pj as he rolled his eyes, but still made a mental note to stop by the building on his walk home that afternoon and pick up a pamphlet to have a look.

* * *

The walk was pretty long, and Dan usually caught the bus, but since the library was quite a long detour from his usual route, he decided to go the distance on foot. That gave him time to think about it.

Although his father had always insisted on a prestigious profession like a lawyer or engineer, Dan had always found it hard to imagine himself sitting behind a desk or studying for years of his life for a job he really didn’t feel like doing.

In his head, it sounded stupid to start an art class just because he fancied a girl, but he guessed that was because it was stupid. Why would he waste money and time doing something he didn’t want to do, just to impress someone he would probably never have a chance with anyway? The answer, however, was because he actually wanted to learn to draw properly, and he was kind of excited about having a way to express himself and do something that he felt he was good at already.

In all the classes he took, he did pretty well, but that all felt forced and unnatural. Drawing, however, kept creeping into everything he did almost by accident, most of his pens running out not from writing pages and pages of notes, but instead from doodling along every margin and twirling on the back of his hand.

As embarrassing as it was, most of the time he spent working on each assignment was in formatting the page to look nice, and perfectly ruling and hand drawing all his diagrams. He was proud every time, sitting at the back of the room during maths, that he was able to capture the likeness of a person sitting ahead of him, or perhaps the jar of rulers on the teachers desk, but whatever he did, there was no hiding the fact that drawing made him feel happy.

He had never before considered lessons though, or thought of it as anything more than a casual hobby, but by the time he reached the shabby little studio near the town centre, Dan was utterly convinced. Finally, he would have a chance to express himself the way that he wanted and learn something that he might actually enjoy.


	2. Lesson 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan joins an art class because he fancies a girl in it, but then he meets Phil, who he finds out started drawing for a very different reason. Slowly he begins to realise that the girl is not the only thing keeping him there, and he learns a lot from the strange boy.
> 
> Dan thought that convincing his parents to let him go would be the hard part, but once he starts the class, things aren't as easy as he thought they would be.

_… He had never before considered lessons though, or thought of it as anything more than a casual hobby, but by the time he reached the shabby little studio near the town centre, Dan was utterly convinced. Finally, he would have a chance to express himself the way that he wanted and learn something that he might actually enjoy._

It was a cold and windy Thursday afternoon when Dan finally arrived at his first art class. It had actually been relatively easy to convince his parents to let him go, with only a week of subtly dropping hints and casually waving the shiny piece of paper under their noses before his mother sighed and finally said yes, although his father had been a little more hesitant of course. He said many times that he needed to focus on school and he was already slacking off, but it was good to have a little variety in his studies, right?

Dan felt his heart flutter as he thought of sitting in a class with other people his age doing what he loved, not just as a way of passing the time or venting his frustration, but with an actual purpose and with the possibility of learning new techniques. He had never really seen any artists working properly before as he had always been shut away and shoved to the academic side of education, but his fingers ached to get started, and over the few days he had to wait, he couldn’t stop the lines flowing across his pages, his refined wrist movements creating swirling masses and visual ramblings that already were starting to fill up his new sketchbook.

A few hours ago he had returned home from school, and spent a considerable amount of time getting together his supplies and trying to find a suitable shirt. He wasted what must have been over an hour searching through his drawers for the right thing to wear - he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard as it was just an art class, but he didn’t want to look completely hopeless either. He ended up choosing an older pair of black jeans in case he ended up spilling paint on himself, and shrugged on a dark grey hoodie that had definitely seen better days, the edges of the sleeves fraying slightly and the print starting to fade from the front.

On the short walk to the studio his heart was racing, and he couldn’t help but look for any other teenagers heading in the same direction as him, wondering if he might have already met anyone else from his class, apart from Sandra, of course. He left a little extra time to get there just in case, but his body was surging with nerves and adrenaline, and he ended up arriving with well over ten minutes to spare.

Standing outside the converted terrace building, he looked up at the run down facade, frowning slightly as he noticed the peeling paint and overgrown pot plants hanging down from the upper floor. He hadn’t really paid much attention two weeks ago when he stopped by to grab a pamphlet from the front window, but now that he was actually here, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that was rushing through his body in waves, starting in the pit of his stomach and sending shivers down his spine.

Dan pushed open the front door, a few flakes of dark blue paint coming off under his fingers as the heavy slab of wood creaked on its rusty hinges. Some of the other students must already be here, he thought, as he heard the sound of muffled greetings and laughter bouncing off the warm yellow walls and scratched hardwood floor.

He nervously stepped forward, already feeling out of place. He couldn’t wait to start drawing, but everyone surely already knew each other - how long would it take for him to fit in? They were probably all amazing at art too, knowing how to paint and do complicated drawings, when Dan’s only experience was filling up the space on a boring page with stupid doodles.

When he reached the open door at the end of the hall, he was almost ready to pass out, and he held his breath as he crossed the threshold, stepping into what must have been a storage room. He looked around the small space, straight away being met with the warm smiles of a few kids his age already standing there, hooking their backpacks on one of the walls.

He looked around the room for a few seconds, trying not to hover in the doorway too long, and soon enough spotted a free hook next to a tall black haired boy.

“Hey” Dan said, trying to swallow his nerves as he took off his bag and hung it up, smiling at the stranger. Maybe he would be able to hide his wavering voice by only using one syllable words?

“Oh, Hi,” the boy replied quietly, turning to face Dan, a pair of shockingly blue eyes visible under the edge of his fringe. “You must be the new guy,” He said after a slight pause. His voice was gentle with a slight northern accent, and Dan felt his stomach ease slightly as he saw him smiling shyly. He couldn’t help but notice the sweet curve at the edge of the boy’s lips and the way his delicate eyebrows knit together in concentration as he ducked his head down again and began pulling art supplies out of his bag.

“Yeah, this is my first lesson,” Dan grinned, pulling out his sketch pad and pencils. “I… I like drawing so I thought it would be cool to learn properly,” he replied quickly, hoping his nerves weren’t too noticeable and he’d be able to carry out a reasonable conversation.

The boy nodded his head a little and hummed in acknowledgement before going back to rummaging in his bag, pulling out a few more wads of paper. Dan thought he seemed quite nice, if not a bit quiet, and was about to ask him more about the lessons when he was interrupted by another voice coming from behind him.

“Hey, who are you?”

Dan spun around and nearly dropped his sketchpad as he saw a tall pretty girl standing in front of him, her long brown hair sweeping over one of her shoulders.

“Oh, hey!” She said, her face breaking into a smile of recognition, “It’s… Dan, isn’t it? I didn’t know you’d be starting here.”

Dan tried to keep his breathing steady as he looked at Sandra, her sudden appearance taking him totally off guard. “Yeah… wow I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here either,” Dan lied, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as he thought they were, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Yeah, what a coincidence!” Sandra smiled at him kindly, thankfully oblivious to his racing heartbeat. “You’re going to love it,” she added, smiling before turning back to a few other girls who were moving around large sheets of paper on the shelves.

Dan looked around, and saw that a few of the others were beginning to move through the next door, the black haired boy just finishing filling his arms with supplies. He was secretly glad he hadn’t decided to wear his best clothes, as the rest were all in simple jeans or sweatpants, most sporting paint splattered tshirts under their jackets.

He really didn’t know what to make of the place so far, with it’s disheveled interior being far from stunning, but as he moved into the art room Dan’s breath was taken away. His eyes were instantly drawn to the variety of artworks covering the walls and hanging on strings across the ceiling, showcasing the class’ work. Only a few inches of bright yellow paint were visible, the majority instead being covered in layers and layers of paper; artworks overlapping each other and clashing in an explosion of colour.

The room was full of paint splattered wooden tables, each surrounded by four seats, and Dan decided to park himself at an empty desk in the middle of the room, making sure it didn’t look like he was stealing anyone’s spot. To his slight annoyance, he noticed Sandra and two of her friends take the table next to him, one seat obviously free, but it would look really stupid if he moved now, wouldn’t it? Although she had been friendly before, he didn’t want to appear overly eager, besides, they might have another friend coming, and he didn’t know if he could trust himself to not say something stupid considering they would be here for over an hour.

A few more minutes passed before Mrs Avery finally entered the room, greeting the class and sticking up a few large pieces of paper on a pinboard behind her. “Oh Daniel love, it’s great to see you’re here!” She beamed across the room, a dozen heads flicking in Dan’s direction and nodding in acknowledgement.

He watched as she explained what they would be doing that lesson; focusing on still life, they would each take a random object from her desk and and complete a few sketches from various angles, making sure to keep it interesting. In the first half hour she went through a few shading techniques, a graphite stick blurring in her hands as she quickly replicated the likeness of a bowl of fruit.

“It’s all about the lighting,” she explained, using a lamp to demonstrate different angles and variations, and how you could exaggerate that in a drawing to add depth.

Dan found it all quite interesting, completely transfixed as he watched her work. It was amazing to see someone who knew what they were doing, and by the time she was halfway through her explanation, he had stopped trying to catch Sandra’s eye and couldn’t wait to try it out himself.

When she was done, he quickly ran up to the front of the room with the rest of the class and managed to grab an interesting looking old shoe to take back to his desk.

Until now, he had felt nothing but nerves, and almost had to hide the shaking of his hands as his arms reached for objects with his classmates, but with his notepad finally open, things were starting to feel a bit better. He flicked through the pages that he had already used, lazy sketches flashing before his eyes, and opened up to a blank page, setting the shoe down before him and thinking about what angle to start with.

He held the pencil near the end, swirling it across the page to get a brief outline of the shape. He would usually put less focus into the layout, but this was his first lesson and he wanted to be sure to get it right this time. Squinting his eyes, Dan slowly began to add in the details of the worn out leather and fraying laces, getting a little less enjoyment out of the process than usual as he rubbed out and perfected each line meticulously. He normally didn’t really put much thought to drawing, instead opting to let whatever he wanted grow across the thick paper of his sketchbook, but this wasn’t really a drawing for fun, was it?

Still feeling slightly self conscious though, Dan looked around the room, trying to see how the other students worked. Most of them were talking amongst themselves, slouched comfortably and running strokes of lead and coloured pencil over the paper with absolutely no sense of urgency whatsoever.

The only person who really had their head down in concentration was the black haired boy, who Dan had noticed was sitting at a desk near the back by himself. It had taken a while to spot him though, as his small hunched figure almost blended in with the wall of artwork behind him, his body seeming to be made up of smooth pastels and delicate swirls of a watercolour brush rather than flesh and fabric. In fact, the only thing that made him stand out in any way was the movement of his right arm, a thin 4b pencil whipping across the page and his elbow oscillating as the pigment built up momentum on porous paper.

As the time passed and he noticed there was only around fifteen minutes left, Mrs Avery began swooping around the room, looking at what everyone had done. Dan rushed and tried to do his shading a little faster as he was only just getting to the end of his first drawing, and did still want to make a good first impression.

‘Wow, Daniel, I’m impressed!” He heard her voice from behind him, and managed a smile as she complimented his attention to detail. “You’ve really put a lot of effort in, I see you’ve got great copying skills, just make sure you’re not too afraid to add your own touch.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, happy that she seemed to like it, but still feeling a little uneasy. He hadn’t found this class as fun as he thought it would be, but maybe that was just because it was his first one and he was stressing out a bit. Maybe he needed to relax more, or it might help next time to sit with other people?

Mrs Avery smiled down at him, noting the hesitance in his eyes. “No problem, maybe try exaggerating it more next time though, like this shadow here could be darker, and maybe you could add more of a reflection here,” she pointed at different areas of the drawing, and Dan smiled in return, nodding in agreement as he noticed how little contrast there was. “Your drawing style is very exact… don’t be afraid to get a little sketchy! It’s all about what you are drawing and what you want it to mean, and getting that message across.”

Dan didn’t know what to feel as she breezed past onto the next student. He noticed a few people curiously peering over to see what he had done, a few of them smiling and a few compliments floating across the room. He did feel kind of proud of it, but he also knew that it wasn’t his best, not because of the lack of quality, but because it really didn’t feel like it belonged to him… maybe they would be doing something he liked more next lesson?

A few minutes later, Mrs Avery had finally reached the last desk at the back of the room. “Oh Phil, this is amazing as always,” she said kindly, leaning over the shy black haired boy. “You’ve drawn this so beautifully, this is exactly what I was talking about when I said to make it your own, really good job!”

Dan craned his neck to see what Phil had done, glimpsing a few different drawings of a bunch of grapes that was sitting next to him on his desk. It didn’t look like a photo, Dan noticed; it looked even better than that. Even the outlines of the round shapes held a certain lack of precision, a wariness that seemed to go with the boy’s personality and character.

Tiny rough corners of the beautifully shaded orbs flicked off slightly and spidered their way across the page, the dark stem joining them, glistening in the drawing as it stretched to join each of the specked grapes. Dan saw that all the lines were rough and expressive, yet it somehow held more realism than his drawing ever could, the combination of light and dark scribbles crossing over each other to add depth and movement to the artwork. Where Dan would have purposely drawn the outline of each water droplet and shaded accordingly, Phil had just been able to add the flick of his pencil at the edge, leaving just the right amount of paper showing to get the message across.

Dan felt like getting up and asking him about it, but was soon brought back to reality as the cover was closed on Phil’s notepad and he started to pack up. He frowned as he looked back at his drawing. It really wasn’t that bad, but he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to create something amazing.

As he walked through the door to the bag storage room, Dan was still deep in thought, so much that he wasn’t really paying attention to where he was going. Headed towards his bag, he spun around just in time to crash into Phil’s outstretched arms, knocking the pile of paper and sketchbooks out of his hands.

“Sorry!” Dan gasped, bending over to pick up the books, holding a few up to Phil and picking up a few more. Sliding the covers shut, he noticed just one of them was full of countless sketches, close up studies of feathers and flowers and wings, the same dizzyingly perfect style tracing lightly across hundreds of pages.

Muttering apologies over and over, Dan handed back the pile of books. Looking utterly mortified, Phil grasped them urgently, pressing them shut and prising them out of Dan’s grip.

“S - Sorry,” Phil breathed, looking down at his shoes as his pale cheeks flushed scarlet. “I… I just don’t like people seeing what isn’t finished.”

Dan smiled as kindly as he could, offering a hand to help Phil slide the stack into his bag. “It’s alright, I know what you mean,” he replied, thinking about how he wouldn’t exactly ask for people to look through the early pages of his book and see all his unfinished experiments either. “Your drawings are amazing though, I thought what you did today was really good.” Dan said, wondering why Phil was looking so petrified.

If he hadn’t been blushing before, he most certainly was now. “I… uh… thankyou,” he said in a small voice. “I saw what you did too, I really like the way you draw.”

Dan was surprised as the words left Phil’s mouth, the compliment ringing in his ears. “Oh no, well… I’m not that sure about my style though,” he said, wishing that it would come more naturally.

“Well, just think about the thing that all those objects have in common.” Phil met his eyes, finally getting his stubborn zipper shut.

Dan thought for a moment, swing his backpack over one shoulder. “What do you mean?” he asked, giving up trying to think of similarities after a few seconds.

“Just think about the one thing that’s the same in all of them… think of why she chose those objects for us to draw.” Phil said simply, almost piercing Dan with his eyes before looking away again.

Before Dan could ask him more though, Phil was headed down the hall, quickly moving out the front door ahead of the rest. What could he possibly be talking about? Dan stared after him, watching as his tall figure disappeared into the evening street.

He slowly trudged along the hallway after him, thinking that maybe there was going to be more to his Thursday afternoons than he had first thought.


	3. Lesson 2

Dan ran his fingers through his hair, scrunching them slightly in his fringe as he squinted down at the sheet of paper in front of him, the unblemished surface almost as blank as the expression that was plastered across his face. He scratched his pencil across the small ridges in his wooden desk and sighed, wishing for some kind of inspiration to come to him, but it seemed like the more he thought about it, the emptier his mind became.

He thought back a few days to last Thursday when he sat in that peaceful little art room, the pleasant sound of quiet chatter and the unique scratching of graphite on paper filling the air, and how everyone around him seemed so full of ideas and potential. Now it was Monday afternoon, and sitting at his desk at home, he almost felt like laughing at the fact that he had found it hard then, as now, doing anything remotely creative felt completely impossible.

The week rushed by in a heartbeat, the days between Thursdays seeming to blur together like the pigments in a watercolour painting merging across the page and turning into one colourful blur, only a few memorable details surviving in his mind as the rest were washed away.

He got home from school each day to an empty house, completing a bit of homework before once again grabbing his sketchbook and starting to draw. He was determined to get better, squinting down at a few old art books he had borrowed from the library to copy from, hoping that even if his mind felt blocked, at least he could practice his technique.

Looking at the yellowing pages of the drawing manual, Dan picked up a pencil and began grudgingly tracing across the page, a feeling of freedom beckoning just at the edge of his fingertips. By other people’s standards leaning over a textbook like this would probably count as studying, but he soon felt a little more relaxed and unrestricted as he bit his lip and took in all the details he could, working hard to perfect each stroke of graphite.

During the art class he had felt slightly pressured and uneasy, but now that he was alone and had made a start, his flow had returned, and he quickly progressed from copying the various spheres on the page to looking across his room and daydreaming; his wandering thoughts dancing across the page in the form of leaves and vines and spiralling shadows becoming the elegant and slightly more sophisticated successors to the doodles that had snuck their way into his school work each day.

Wandering through the hallways, he thought he noticed a few more familiar faces than usual, spotting that girl with blonde pigtails from the front right desk on the way to ancient history, and the boy who had knocked over a bucket of pencils waiting outside a classroom across from his english class.

He had even met Sandra’s eye a few times, his stomach fluttering as she smiled at him across the room during a boring explanation and noticing his pen scribbling absent mindedly at a pair of eyes at the top of his page of notes. With slight disappointment he realised that Phil was one of the kids that he hadn’t seen around that week, but he guessed about half the class must be from a different school.

Finding pictures online and holding up everyday objects at arm’s length, Dan once again tried what they had learned in art class about still life, by capturing the forms in front of him, and although he still wasn’t sure what he was doing, he let himself have fun and try to find his own style, scribbling circles instead of smooth shading and experimentally cross hatching his way to the edge of the page.

When Thursday afternoon finally came around, Dan was definitely feeling more ready, and although he had no idea what Phil had been talking about the last time he saw him, he was kind of looking forward to talking to him again and seeing the beautiful way he was able to work.

* * *

Dan arrived at the familiar looking dark blue door at around the same time he had last week, with about ten minutes to spare. He walked down the hall with slightly more confidence this time though, his stomach still protesting, but at least not completing the same acrobatic routines as it had a week ago.

After carefully hanging up his bag and getting out his supplies, Dan once again found his seat in the middle of the room and sat down, deciding against sitting on Sandra’s table. For all he knew the fourth friend could have just been away last week, and it would be really awkward if they told him to move. He had to keep his cool, and instead just smiled in greeting across the room as he saw the three girls take their seats, Phil also seeming to materialise at the back of the room before Mrs Avery strode in and began the lesson.

Today they were going to be continuing their work from last week, this time getting into pairs and swapping objects. It was all about finding different ways of interpreting the same thing, Mrs Avery said, asking them to move seats to find a pair if they had to. Dan glanced behind him to try and catch Phil’s eye, but instead heard someone else calling his name.

“Hey, Dan!” one of Sandra’s friends said from the next table, smiling and nudging the empty chair next to her. “You can come with me if you want.”

He hesitated for a moment, turning around and seeing that Phil hadn’t even looked up from his book. He felt sorry for the boy, as nobody seemed to even lift a finger in his direction, but then seeing the welcoming look on the girl’s face and Sandra smiling at him from the seat across from her, he stood up and brought his book and pencils over.

As soon as he started moving though, he felt a surge of guilt, and in his new position he now had a perfect view of the back wall where Phil was seated, now talking softly to Mrs Avery who had handed him a glass vase. A lump formed in Dan’s throat as he realised that instead of switching with another student, he was probably swapping with her, and due to the lack of questioning, this must happen quite often.

Guilt still washing over his body in waves, he decided against staring for any longer, instead turning to the girl next to him who introduced herself as Emily. She seemed pretty cool and they were all quite nice he thought; and after making small talk for a few minutes, saying hi to Alicia, the girl across from him, he started thinking about starting to draw the antique, slightly cracked milk jug that Emily had drawn the previous lesson.

Noticing he was looking slightly left out from their conversation, Sandra smiled at him again from her diagonal position and asked him if he knew anyone in the class. After he shook his head, the three of them started to fill him in on all the students names, talking about where each of them were from and sharing a few interesting facts about them. Everyone seemed to know each other in the small group of 11 students, which made Dan feel a bit better about getting to know Sandra.

“What about him though?” Dan nodded in Phil’s direction, his hunched figure just visible over Alicia’s shoulder.

“Oh… Phil?” Emily asked, she and Sandra exchanging a look. “He’s a bit… he’s a bit different” she said almost apologetically.

“Really? How?” Dan asked, remembering how sweet he had been last week. Although he was shy, he wasn’t that hard to talk to.

Emily looked in his direction, furrowing her brow. “I don’t know, he’s just really quiet… He’s really good at art and is nice enough, but he’s always been a little bit distant.”

“I don’t think he minds though,” Sandra said defensively, adding a few pencil strokes to her own work. “I think he just likes to stay in his own world. He could come and talk to us if he really wanted to.”

Dan felt like saying something about how that wasn’t really the way things worked, but decided against it. Although Phil did seem perfectly content and happy with his desk at the back, Dan knew that ‘just going and talking to someone’ was a lot harder than it might sound, and although he wanted to get involved with an entirely different set of people, he was beginning to feel horrible, and was starting to wish there was a fifth desk they could add on somehow.

The conversation changed to what they had done on the weekend, and Dan only half listened, instead putting a bit more effort into the jug in front of him. Humming in agreement and contributing every so often, he felt like he was enjoying himself a bit more than last time, his practicing from the last week also significantly contributing to his confidence.

He made sure he kept it interesting, letting the shading around the edges get darker where the corners turned, the pencil in his hand no longer feeling like a piece of wood, but instead like an extension of his own imagination. He smiled as he saw the delicate leaves and flowers printed on the ceramic edges, and drew the familiar organic forms he was already used to, the finished product coming out slightly different from the real thing, but this time as something that he could proudly call his own.

When the 90 minute class was finally coming to an end, Mrs Avery stepped behind him, this time complimenting his style and only pointing out a few things he should work on.

“I see you’ve been practicing!” she beamed at him as she rounded the desk to look at Alicia’s work. Dan smiled back and nodded, feeling that this time his effort was starting to pay off. In fact, it was more than that - The end result wasn’t really that important, but he really did enjoy doing this one. The main discomfort caused in the lesson though was in the formation of pairs. Dan shifted in his chair as he made eye contact with Phil, the soft set of blue eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled across the room.

Dan’s stomach completed another flip. It did look like he didn’t care what people thought, but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for Phil, not even knowing that they had been talking about him.

As they packed up, Dan talked a little more with the girls, mostly comparing their drawings of the same objects as Mrs Avery had told them to do. They weren’t actually being rude on purpose, Dan told himself, and laughed along as they continued to make small talk. There was no point in cutting himself off from their conversation just because of that, right? Maybe something had happened between them and Phil in the past.

* * *

When the clock ticked over to 6.30, they all began to make their way towards the bag room, but as Dan walked in he was just able to glimpse a flash of black turning the corner, the hook next to his bag already empty.

He thought about what Sandra had said before about how Phil should just come and say hi, and how ridiculous that really was. Dan wasn’t exactly the most social person, but at least he knew that in order to talk to someone, both people had to put in an effort, and if Phil was being constantly ignored, he wasn’t going to feel like he could just go up and start a conversation.

So after packing up, Dan quickly hurried out the door, jogging as he saw Phil’s tall, lean figure a few metres ahead of him walking along the main road in the low light. Why had he left so early? Was it because he really had heard them talking? But then why was he smiling at Dan at the end of the lesson?

“Hey!” Dan called out as he approached, not wanting to scare him. Phil spun around as he walked, a look of surprise etched across his face. His features were only just discernible in the yellow streetlights, most of the road already plunged into darkness as the late winter sun had began to set over an hour ago.

“Hey,” he replied, slowing a little to accommodate Dan’s pace. There were a few seconds of silence as Dan tried to think of something to talk about - he had planned on talking to Phil, but hadn’t actually thought of a topic.

“So…” Dan started as they matched each other’s steps, “How did the vase go?” He thought art was a pretty safe topic to stick to.

“Oh… yeah it was good,” Phil answered, still looking a little timid. “It… it was a bit hard to draw the back though, you know… because it was see through…” he trailed off, looking down at his feet.

“I’m sure you did a great job at it,” Dan replied. “Can I see?”

He knew he was taking a bit of a risk asking, especially after Phil’s reaction last week, but considering this was just what they were doing in class and that he had already shown Mrs Avery, he might be in with a chance. Uncertainty plastered across Phil’s features, he hesitated for a few moments before swinging his bag around and pulling one of his sketchbooks from the front pocket.

He opened it to the most recent page, and Dan was immediately struck by the dramatic shape crossing the paper. Even though the lighting was awful, he was able to see the shape of the piece of blown glass curving up from a thin base to a ruffled edge, the transparent material looking more like a splash of water frozen in time than a piece of human craftsmanship, hundreds of dainty cutouts resembling flowers and leaves crossing its surface.

There was a certain dramatic edge to the vase, the length and precision almost harsh and sharp. Phil’s style, however, was completely the opposite, somehow managing to soften the harsh lines, the style more wispy and undefined, just like him for that matter. Although his hair was the colour of rich, dusty charcoal and his porcelain skin was as white as the bucket of chalk on Mrs Avery’s desk, there was a certain softness and warmth to his appearance, and the rough contrast of colours blended perfectly; the edge of his hairline flicking to the right and piercing light blue eyes perfectly balancing the slight coral flush that seemed to be constantly creeping across his cheekbones.

“That’s amazing,” Dan gasped just as Phil closed the book again, snapping out of his reverie and returning him to the present.

“Thanks,” Phil’s cheeks darkened again, and Dan couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “How are you liking the class so far?” he asked Dan, fumbling with his backpack.

Dan looked with interest as Phil put the book away. “I’m liking it a lot,” Dan smiled after thinking for a few moments, but then continued, “ …  even though I’m not sure if still life is really my thing. I just don’t really feel like I’m thinking for myself, you know what I mean?”

Phil nodded. “Well, the good thing about art is that you can make it anything you want it to be. There isn’t really a way of doing it wrong, unless you’re there for the wrong reason.”

It was Dan’s turn to blush, as he couldn’t help but smile up at Phil as he launched into a meaningful explanation. As their walk continued, Dan’s turning getting closer and closer, their conversation danced around the topic of drawing, Phil’s whole face lighting up as Dan asked him questions about techniques and what he liked to do. It’s just so sweet to watch someone talk about something they are passionate about, and Dan was completely mesmerised as Phil explained, the words happily rolling off his tongue.

They drew to what seemed like a natural pause as they reached a side street, but Dan soon realised that this was probably Phil’s turning.

“Umm… so I’d better be going then,” Phil mumbled, his confidence diminishing as their conversation found it’s way back into the mundane.

‘Oh, sure,” Dan replied slightly awkwardly. He had never really been good at goodbyes. “I’ll see you next week.”

With a little nod of his head, Phil turned around to walk down his street, hands in pockets and shoulders rounded to brace against the cold night air. Dan was suddenly struck with a thought though.

“Hold on,” he called out, and Phil spun around again in surprise, his hair flicking as he turned his head to face Dan, already a few metres away.

“Yeah?”

“I was just wondering, what did you mean last week? about what the objects have in common?” Dan asked, the question completely escaping his mind until now.

“Oh…” Phil replied, obviously having forgotten about it too. “It was just that none of them are perfect, and they all have a story to tell.”

Dan must have looked a little confused, because he went on, “Like, imagine if she had chosen a new pair of shoes, or a really fresh bunch of grapes, or a simple modern vase?” Phil paused as if waiting for a response, but quickly continued, “Each of the things there had imperfections that we could make the most of. When I’m drawing something, I want to try and add meaning or make it interesting, even if that means changing a few things. The little cracks in a plate or spots on a piece of fruit are just better opportunities for this, and help you to add some feeling and a bit of a backstory.”

Dan swallowed, unable to think of something he could say in reply. “I… um, so how do I do that?”

Phil smiled sweetly, almost in consolation. “It looks like you already can,” and Dan remembered the same smile greeting him across the studio as Mrs Avery trotted between the desks. “Remember that old shoe you did last week? It was really old and worn out, so you could make that really nice and warm, with lots of personality as something that has been loved, or you could have it looking lonely, having been abandoned with no pair. It’s really up to you, and it mostly comes from expressing how you feel at the time.

“Anyone with a bit of skill can put effort in or try hard, or teach themselves to copy something exactly. What sets you aside is your ability to come up with new things that can’t just be done by editing a photograph. What’s the good in being able to replicate something in front of you if you can just take a photo and put some filter on it to look like pencil? What makes it really special is the fact that you can tell it’s a drawing, that it has personality and meaning put into it. Art is basically like an expression of how you see the world around you, so you should make sure you show off the little things that you find special that set you apart from the others.”

Dan grinned, almost in disbelief. “I - I’ll try to keep that in mind… thanks!” He stuttered, completely enthralled by the way Phil’s eyes lit up and the way an air of certainty took control of his body as he talked about himself.

Phil shrugged, a fading rosy glow just visible on his cheeks through the shadows. “I don’t know, just whatever works for you,” he said, taking a few more steps and beginning to turn around. “See you then,” He said, and as he turned his back, Dan realised they were still standing there on the street corner a little distance apart.

He watched for a few moments as the boy with dark hair strode down the leafy street, his pace quickening just as Dan’s heartrate began to settle down. As he set off again down the main road, he couldn’t help but wonder what could really be so bad about Phil.

[[tumblr link]](http://dlester.tumblr.com/post/78352204530/a-thousand-words-chapter-2)


	4. Watercolour

Whether by his own choice, or the circumstances forced upon him by others, Dan had always been a very certain person, each day laid out before him with a strict set of tasks and deadlines for him to complete; and although over the years he had come to resent this and yearn for freedom, it was still what he knew best, and it gave him a sense of comfort and security.

When graduating from eighth grade, he pretty much had his career planned out for him - he was ‘pretty good at maths’, so of course he would become an accountant or an engineer, whichever suited him more, or, ultimately, whichever his parents thought would give him more prestige and success.

That was why he loved drawing. It was something he knew he was good at, and there was a certain sense of order to copying a photograph or something sitting in front of him, yet it still gave him a touch of freedom, and a sense of rebellion that he had previously struggled to find. It was something that he could almost apply a formula to, but it also offered escape and freedom at the same time, with the strokes of his pencil being able to communicate what he wanted them to, and for him to be able to somehow create something unique for once in his life.

The first time Dan saw Phil drawing, however, It completely astounded him, Phil’s artwork being more amazing than anything he had ever seen before. The boy’s creations were so beautiful, each drawing he completed capturing the object so differently to how he could even imagine it, the wispy sense of uncertainty permeating his work as lines spiralled off the edges and took on a life of their own.

If art was Dan’s source of freedom, Phil pretty much represented everything Dan yearned for, completely mastering the skill of spontaneity, which Dan was only just catching the edge of. A lack of planning normally made Dan feel really uncomfortable, but Phil was able to completely embrace this, the start of an artwork holding infinite possibilities as he made it up as he went along. What made Dan feel uneasy however, and almost in awe of the boy’s talents, was the way he was able to come up with it all for himself, ideas spilling across the page that had never been conceived or seen before.

And that was why watercolour painting scared him, the shapes and distinct lines coming together not from careful planning, but as the culmination of instinct and delicate skill. Being creative using lead pencils was hard enough, so he had no idea how he was going to handle using such an expressive medium.

* * *

It had been a week since Dan was last in the Studio, and by the time Thursday afternoon came around he couldn’t wait to return. He had only been to two lessons so far, but as soon as he walked back into the room he was greeted with familiarity, the layout of the cluttered walls already becoming memorable, and the strangely reassuring smell; a mix of wood and acrylic paint, permeating the air and immediately refreshing his creative thoughts.

During the week he had seen Sandra a few times, and she actually said hi to him in front of her friends which he took as a good sign. He was slowly making progress with her, and they’d actually had a proper conversation, which he was pretty excited to tell PJ about. Something slightly more unexpected though was the number of times Phil cropped up in his mind, thoughts of him and his artwork wafting through Dan’s head at even the faintest mention of drawing or the sight of a familiar feature. There was just something about him that fascinated Dan, maybe it was the quiet reserved exterior that seemed to hold so much depth underneath. His parting words, about art and expression last week kept returning in Dan’s mind, and he couldn’t shake the feelings of respect that were starting to settle in his chest.

During the week, however, Dan was reminded of what made him start the art class in the first place, and to be honest, it had originally been to get Sandra to notice him. No matter how much he admired Phil’s talent, he still couldn’t help but yearn for her attention, desperately trying to think of a way he could subtly talk to her more or impress her somehow. As much as he had been trying to play it safe and go slowly, he had been thinking about her for months now, trying to come up with a way to get with her, and now that he had found something he was kind of good at, this could be a pretty good opportunity to try and win her over.

And that was where Phil came in. The boy was amazing, his kind words already having helped Dan beyond measure, not only increasing his skills, but also his confidence. He knew that Sandra liked art and people who were good at it, so why not get a little bit of help, especially when Phil was so keen to offer it?

After arriving and setting up his sketchbook on his usual desk, Dan looked up to the front table, where instead of various household objects, there was now a stack of old looking wooden boxes. Just as he was beginning to open up his pencil case though, Mrs Avery announced to the class that this lesson they were going to be using watercolour to play around with techniques and experiment with different styles. His chest lurched slightly as he thought about the unfamiliar medium.

Just like in Dan’s first lesson, the class got up and all moved to grab a wooden box from the desk, having been instructed to share between two or three. He nervously looked around, accidentally making eye contact with Sandra. He smiled at her and almost went over to talk, but then remembered he should probably try to not embarrass himself when he had absolutely no idea how to paint. He continued looking around however, knowing exactly who he really wanted to work with; who he had deep down wanted to sit with since he first arrived.

“Hi Phil,” he said, smiling at the familiar face as he finally spotted him standing nearby in the crowd of students.

“Oh, Hey,” Phil replied, still looking surprised that Dan was talking directly to him. Dan didn’t know why though, the boy was quite nice to get along with.

“Hey,” Dan started as they waited near the back of the group, “I um… I was wondering if you want to sit together this lesson?” He wasn’t sure if he should ask or not, seeing as Phil seemed to have a pretty permanent setup on his back desk and might prefer to be alone.

“Oh… sure,” Phil replied, looking more confused than ever. “Do you want to come to my desk or should I move to yours?” He asked, turning his head to the back of the room and looking at his table.

“Oh no, don’t worry… I can move my things over to you,” Dan said quickly, not wanting to inconvenience him at all. He’d hardly been here for three weeks, and he didn’t want to force Phil to move when he was the one who had only just arrived.

“How about I go and do that, while you get us some supplies?” Dan suggested, realising they didn’t need two people to get a box of paints. “You probably have more of an idea of what we need anyway,” he smiled, trying to shake the feeling of guilt that was starting to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“Sure,” Phil returned the kind smile, looking a bit more comfortable as he settled into the conversation. “I’ll make sure I get a tub of water too.”

Dan grinned at the boy; there was something so sweet about him, and although his initial shyness and quiet manner must have made him seem less approachable to others in the class, It only made Dan want to get to know him more. “Cool, great… I’ll get moving then,” he said, starting to make his way back to his desk, silently congratulating himself on the conversation, which hadn’t been as cripplingly awkward as he had expected.

Not long after he had himself settled at Phil’s desk, choosing the chair directly to the right of the one the other boy normally occupied, Dan saw Phil weaving his way back towards him, balancing a paint stained glass of water in one hand and a wooden box of paints in the other, a few thin brushes also crammed between his fingers.

“Here, let me help,” Dan rose from his seat, stepping forward and grabbing the glass of water. His fingertips just brushed Phil’s, and he tried not to blush - that was Phil’s job, wasn’t it? Looking away from the smirk on the dark haired boy’s face, he set the glass down on the table between them.

Dan tried to pull himself together as Phil set up the paints. There was no reason for him to be so nervous, why was he suddenly feeling so self conscious? Sandra was literally over the other side of the room and she had been playing at his mind for months, so why was he suddenly okay with her, but freaking out about some shy boy he was probably already friends with, and who was really nothing to worry about? He knew it was probably unfair to ask Phil to help him just so that he could impress Sandra, but he sort of liked spending time with the boy, and Phil didn’t have to help him if he didn’t want to.

Phil finished opening the box, revealing two neat rows of colours each in a little packaged square.

“So… do you like painting?” Dan asked, watching the way Phil held his brush, instantly looking natural and relaxed.

“Oh, yeah… It’s different, but it’s nice,” Phil smiled at him as he started swirling his brush around in the water before choosing a dark shade of blue. Dan watched as the brush spiralled in the rich colour and started to pick up the pigment, the water sliding down the bristles and mixing with the paint to create a workable liquid.

Deciding he had mixed it together well enough, Phil lifted up his brush and painted a long stroke across the open page of his sketchbook, the thin strands of the brush fanning out as he applied gentle pressure to control the thickness of the line. “What about you?” he turned to Dan as he plunged his brush back into the water, washing off the colour so that he could try a new one. As soon as the tip touched the surface, the remaining colour in the brush began to spread through the water in wispy tendrils, dainty spirals forming as he moved the handle around and shook it to get the brush clean.

Dan paused for a few seconds, trying to rationalise his selfishness. He was being kind to Phil by spending time with him, wasn’t he? He wasn’t taking pity on him though - that really would be unfair. He was enjoying spending time with him, so what if it had started out from greed?

“I haven’t really tried it before actually,” he admitted as he snapped back to the present, picking up one of the brushes that Phil had brought over.

“Really?” Phil raised his eyebrows, this time swirling his brush in a pale yellow. “Not ever?” His voice sounded surprised.

Dan dipped his brush in the water and shook his head. He looked wistfully at Phil’s page, a few washes of colour already layered around the blue line to form what looked like the beginnings of a sailing boat.

“Well, it’s never too late to learn,” Phil smiled reassuringly, tilting his head and gesturing for Dan to try it out. “You can just play around for a bit today and get a feel for it, it’s really fun once you get started.” He shook his hair out of his face before dipping his brush in the water again and adding some light blue to the edge of the sea.

Biting his lip, Dan lifted his brush from the water and hovered it over the wooden box, trying to quickly decide on a colour. After hesitating for a few moments, he chose a dark red, deciding that no matter what colour he used, this would still be a rough experiment.

Trying to relax, he swirled the brush in the little square, noticing that as the saturated fibres moved around, they slowly picked up the strong pigment and created a thick, dusty wash of coloured water coating the smooth strands. Trying not to grip the brush too tightly, Dan lifted up his hand and brought the tip down on the paper, tentatively painting a stroke and flicking it at the end, creating a red curve across his open sketchbook.

He looked across the room to where Sandra was sitting, smiling and laughing with her friends, and felt a wave of determination. What would she think if she saw him struggling with something so simple? Dan looked back down at the paper and the vivid line of colour crossing his page. He heard her voice across the room and thought about how it had sounded when she was talking to him, and tried to spur himself on.

“Hey, just relax… Let it happen,” Phil said, watching Dan intently as his features distorted with concentration. Dan glanced up again, a questioning look in his eyes. He painted a stroke across the page again, this time more loosely, and smiled as he let it curl more freely.

Dipping his brush in different shades of red and orange, Dan added more swirls to the first few, enjoying it more and more as he experimented and let the lines flow from the slight flick of his wrist. At first he tried to keep it orderly, feeling slightly frustrated when the overlapping of the colours didn’t look quite right, but hearing Phil’s calming voice made him realise that this didn’t really matter, and nobody would really be judging him on his first try.

Before he knew it Dan was completely immersed in his painting, the smooth lines not exactly forming anything in particular, but nevertheless looking quite pretty as he added little squiggles and dots to practice details in some places, before choosing a wider brush and experimenting with a light wash of colour over a large area. He didn’t even notice as Phil paused to watch, the dark haired boy smiling as he observed the other getting completely carried away.

They sat there for more than an hour, just a few sweet words of encouragement passing between the two boys as their brushstrokes flowed more fluently than words ever could. It was so much easier than Dan had thought it would be, and he really enjoyed it a lot after he got over the initial idea of trying something new. It was completely out of his comfort zone, but as the lesson went on he came to realise that this was a good thing.

As the clock ticked closer to 6.30, Mrs Avery called the class to attention, telling them that next lesson they were going to be completing a simple watercolour painting of something from nature, holding up a few examples that they might want to use for inspiration, and telling them to think about that during the week. She was pretty good when it came to homework, Dan thought, as everything she told them to do was optional and for their own benefit, which he’d never really heard from any teacher in the past.

“I also have a note that some of you might want to collect,” She continued, waving a wad of paper. “I’ve organised a museum trip for us to go on next Saturday, and if any of you are interested, I thought it would be really good to all come along and see some of the artwork there, and maybe learn a few things and have some fun!”

Dan’s face immediately lit up, thoughts of the museum flooding through his mind as he imagined what it would be like, hundreds of paintings by different artists all surrounding him and giving him inspiration, showing the infinite variations possible when given a blank canvas and some paint.

As the lesson ended, Dan made sure he walked by the front desk to grab a note, and then continued to the bag room, where he was surprised to see Phil standing patiently by the door.

“Hey,” he smiled, his heart fluttering as he realised he was waiting for him. “Didn’t you want to get a note?” Dan asked.

Phil looked down at his feet, his cheeks flushing bright pink. “Oh… no, I have no way of getting there.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dan said, shoving the piece of paper in his bag with slight disappointment. Upon finding out about the trip, he immediately thought about what a good opportunity it would be to talk to Sandra and possibly spend more time with her, but with Phil’s words, he realised he had also been imagining the boy by his side too. “I’m sure I could give you a lift if you needed it?” Dan offered, after all they did live quite close to each other.

“Oh no don’t worry about it,” Phil mumbled, starting to shuffle through the doorway as Dan zipped up his bag.

Dan smiled sympathetically. “Well you can always ask if you need it.”

Phil returned the smile, looking slightly over his shoulder as they walked down the hall. “Don’t worry about it, my dad probably won’t want me to go… I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Dan sighed, telling himself not to push it. Phil was so sweet and nice, but that didn’t mean he had to say no to the lift? Maybe he just didn’t want to go, Dan thought, or maybe there was something stopping him from going to the art gallery or having someone else taking him? Whatever it was though, it was entirely Phil’s business, and as they continued their walk home, Dan make sure they kept up a light conversation about other matters.

As soon as Dan got home he collapsed onto his bed, completely relaxed yet utterly exhausted, a cloud of serenity still lingering around him. It had seemed to appear around halfway through the lesson as he grew completely focused on his artwork, nothing else around him seeming to matter for those many peaceful minutes of painting.

* * *

The next lesson started just like the last, all the students walking in and collecting their paints before getting started, a few using pictures of plants and flowers, but some bringing in actual samples to get started. Dan had found a few daisies around his house during the week, and paid attention to the shapes of the leaves and the petals as he memorised what they looked like, but chose to work from scratch. The thought of it was slightly daunting, but as he thought about last week, he realised he would probably kind of enjoy making it up.

Sandra smiled at Dan as he walked into the room, and she flicked her eyes to the seat next to her almost involuntarily, to offer him a place, but he smiled apologetically. Although he yearned to be next to her and impress her with his painting, that actually required him to be doing something impressive, so he decided to stick with practicing with Phil for now. The dark haired boy greeted him as he sank into the same seat as last time, smirking as he noticed Dan and Sandra’s silent exchange.

Over the course of the lesson, Dan found out more about Phil, liking him more and more every minute, hardly believing there could be anything bad about him. Keeping up a small conversation about what they did at school and what subjects they liked, Dan found himself glancing at Phil’s work, watching as his light blue eyes flicked across the page following the end of his paintbrush. He was mesmerised as he watched a few detailed sunflowers take shape, a dainty pen outline framing the dynamic washes of green, brown and vibrant yellow that soaked across the paper and gave depth and life with each layer of colour.

It was no surprise that art was the boy’s favourite subject, but Dan also found out he liked ancient history too. He had to admit it was very cute to see Phil talk about the things he was passionate about, his eyes widening with excitement and mouth curving up on one side as he talked about ancient Greece, Rome and Egypt, which he said was his favourite period of history. He would have loved the gallery, Dan thought with slight disappointment, but he made a mental note to pay attention next time they were learning about any of those topics at school.

Dan experienced such a unique feeling as his brush trailed across the paper. Never before had he felt like he even had the ability to create something so dainty and delicate, yet being able to feel completely free and unrestrained at the same time. He let himself experiment with the amount of water he used, being able to change from a dilute smudge to a rich blurry line as he picked up more of the pigment. He watched as he was able to just touch his brush to the edge of a wet area and let the paper do the rest, absorbing the vivid tones as he let them bleed across the page.

Over the course of one and a half hours, both boy’s artworks took shape, Dan’s daisies starting near the bottom of the page and spralling towards the top right corner, with the lightest shade of blue contrasting the edges of the petals with the white paper, and a dab of yellow in the middle of each flower perfectly setting off the lime green of the stems and leaves.

Darkness came far earlier than Dan thought it would, his heart sinking as he realised the lesson was almost over. He was actually really proud with what he had done, and although he had to admit it was no masterpiece, being only the second time he had picked up a brush, he really did like painting a lot, and had enjoyed Phil’s company even more as they sat and painted together.

Their conversation continued sweetly even as they packed up and headed to the bag room, but as they made their way down the street they fell quiet, both boys feeling relaxed after such a pleasant lesson, both in terms of the work they completed, and the amount they talked to each other. At the end of the day, Dan thought that he could now actually call Phil his friend, the lovely boy smiling at him every so often with such a noticeable bounce in his step. Not only was he friendly and sweet all the time, but the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled was almost as adorable as the fine dusting of freckles on his nose.

As they were nearing the end of their walk, however, Dan finally found his voice, a thought having been playing at the back of his mind for the last few minutes. Shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to sound natural, he decided it was the right time to ask.

“Hey Phil,” he tried not to stutter, “I er… I was wondering if I could get your number?”

Phil turned to face him and smiled. “Yes, if you want,” he said, fumbling slightly as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Dan so that they could both swap to add a new contact.

Dan realised how ridiculous he was being - it was just a phone number after all, something that friends share all the time, and it would be nice to talk to him more than once a week, and the redness in his cheeks was most definitely from the cold night air, and not from the fact that he could feel his heart beating in his throat.

Dan quickly typed his name and number into Phil’s phone before handing it back, taking his back before burying it into the front of his jacket as he shoved his hands into his pockets. By now it was almost time to say goodbye, and as they reached Phil’s turning, the two exchanged a few words before going their separate ways.

As he passed a few more streetlights and trees on the way to his own street, Dan couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, his entire body filled with warmth. He didn’t even know what he was going to say to Phil when he texted him sometime within the week, but just knowing he was there made him feel pretty content. He also couldn’t help but feel excited for Sunday, with a few hours available to look at art and get to know Sandra a little better. It was just a shame that Phil wouldn’t be able to make it.


	5. The Art Gallery

_…As he passed a few more streetlights and trees on the way to his own street, Dan couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, his entire body filled with warmth. He didn’t even know what he was going to say to Phil when he texted him sometime within the week, but just knowing he was there made him feel pretty content. He also couldn’t help but feel excited for Sunday, with a few hours available to look at art and get to know Sandra a little better. It was just a shame that Phil wouldn’t be able to make it._

For the next few hours, Dan was almost in a daze, every so often going into his contacts and smiling at the new familiar name on the list, the small pixelated letters reading  _Phil Lester_.

Dan mouthed the name a few times, liking the way it rolled off his tongue - he’d never really thought about what Phil’s last name could be; he’d always seemed like some kind of anonymous force that he only interacted with once a week, but he guessed that might be able to change now. He decided the soft name sort of suited the boy, a light consonant followed by a hiss almost reminiscent of his manner, always gentle and calm, yet certain and unwavering at the same time.

Dan placed his phone back on his bedside table and turned over in his bed, nestling down as the warm sheets and blankets rustled around him. He was being ridiculous, why did his name even matter? The boy was sweet and kind, he had to admit, but what the hell was he so excited and nervous about? Phil was probably his friend - yes, Dan hoped that after today they would be able to call each other friends, but shouldn’t he be thinking about more important things than that? All he needed was to get a little bit of help from Phil and get a bit more confident when it came to drawing. The real problem at hand was getting closer to Sandra, and he hadn’t even hit friendship with her yet.

He thought about the swooping dizzy feeling he had felt in his stomach the whole walk home, and couldn’t help but let a smile slip back onto his face, images of Phil and his artworks coming back to cloud his mind.

Dan sighed, realising that the biggest obstacle stopping him from getting with Sandra had been his own actions. He could have decided to sit with her in his  _first lesson_ , or maybe in the last two, and he would have made a lot more progress that way, even if this way was ‘more thought out’ and nicer to Phil. The solution would probably be to be honest with himself, Dan thought, but that would mean thinking a lot more and weighing up what he  _actually_  wanted from this whole situation, and to be perfectly honest, he didn’t really know what that was anymore.

Dan let out a deep breath he didn’t realise her been holding, why was everything becoming so confusing? He still had a long way to go with Sandra, but his heart was buzzing with… was it anticipation? He was definitely looking forward to the weekend, not only to visit the gallery, but to spend time with her and possibly talk to her properly for once, but there was also a hint of nervousness washing around the edges of his mind, and a touch of regret that Phil wouldn’t be there with him.

* * *

The next day at school dragged on for what felt like a month, Dan trying to stay awake through one class after another as each minute seemed to stretch for hours, the ticking of the clock more reminiscent of a broken metronome that had been set one notch too slow. That wasn’t really that surprising, however, considering he didn’t fall asleep until well after 2am the night before.

“So how was the class yesterday?” Pj asked Dan as the pair walked to their next class together, both returning from their lunch break and heading to their usual maths room, Dan stifling a yawn with the edge of his sleeve.

“Oh, yeah it was good,” the words came out somewhat muffled as Dan finished yawning, but he couldn’t help but let his mouth curve into a smile as his mind flicked back to the hour and a half spent peacefully painting with Phil. “I think I did a bit better than last week, like, I actually painted something this time rather than just messing around,” He said, feeling quite proud of himself.

“Oh, that’s great,” Pj nodded along, “but how’s it going, you know, with Sandra?”

Dan quickly glanced over his shoulder, knowing that she was bound to be somewhere nearby, and with his luck, she would probably overhear them and totally freak out. “Er, yeah that’s going pretty good too,” Dan tried to maintain his smile, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly on edge after so much overthinking the night before. Of course he still liked her,  _she’s fucking gorgeous_  Dan thought as her beautiful hair and slender frame came to mind, although her smile wasn’t quite as cute as Phil’s, his mind continued to squirm.

“Pretty good?” Pj asked, looking more and more interested, “Did you guys talk again?” He asked eagerly, noticing that Dan was kind of zoning out.

“Oh… no,” Dan said, feeling vaguely self conscious, “well… I was trying to not rush things, you know.”

Pj looked at Dan with surprise, his eyebrows knitting together. “Dude, like three weeks ago you were ready to grab her as she walked past, I thought you were crazy about her,” he remarked. “Not that I’m complaining now, I guess it’s good you’re a bit more calm and rational about it,” he smirked, playing with one of the straps on his bag.

“I wasn’t  _irrational_  before,” Dan grinned as Pj rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Pj laughed as they walked through the door and found their normal seats near the back of the room. Dan’s eyes followed Sandra as she weaved her way across the classroom a few minutes later, taking a desk near the middle. “Just make sure you don’t get carried away… or get too calm and leave it too late.”

“Don’t worry,” Dan lowered his voice slightly, “We’ll have a pretty good chance to talk properly on Sunday.”

Pj’s eyes widened in surprise, “Sunday?” He asked, looking somewhat confused, “What are you doing then?”

Dan quickly filled Pj in on the details, completely forgetting he hadn’t gotten around to telling him about their trip. Once he was done, Pj looked pretty happy about it, every so often glancing across to stare at Sandra. “And you’re sure she’s going?”

“Yeah, I think there were only like three people who couldn’t go,” Dan said, feeling slightly downcast as Phil wandered back into his mind.

“That’s great, you’re so in!” Pj hissed as their teacher walked into the room, the class beginning to quieten down.

“Yeah,” Dan murmured back as he began to draw a parabola on the board up the front, telling the class to be quiet.

"This is such a good chance, you should totally ask her out," Pj whispered as they were set some work.

"Shut up," Dan laughed, but he couldn’t stop his stomach from flipping just thinking about it - he’d literally been imagining the possible conversation they could have for months now, but it still felt like a distant fantasy, every scenario as far from reality as he could get. As the lesson progressed, he thought about how great the trip would be, with beautiful artworks and techniques to learn about, although Sandra definitely wasnt the one on his mind for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Dan woke up early on Sunday morning, Friday evening and the whole of Saturday passing uneventfully as usual. He wasn’t exactly the type to go to parties every weekend - not that he was never invited, but just because he usually didn’t feel social enough to go along. He had quite a few friends at school who he liked to spend his time with and who he sometimes meet up with on the weekends, but he’d never really gone far beyond that, and definitely liked to stay inside his comfort zone.

Although, just like any other self respecting teenager, he wasn’t used to getting up before 10am on a weekend, Dan rushed downstairs for breakfast at 8, remembering that they were all meant to be meeting out the front of the gallery at 9. He quickly shoved some bread in the toaster, pacing around the kitchen in anticipation for the day ahead.

“So you’re totally fine with getting the bus home this afternoon?” His mum asked as she poured herself a bowl of cereal. They had arranged that Dan could be driven in the morning, but he would have to make his own way home.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Dan said between mouthfuls of toast, quickly wolfing it down so that he’d have enough time to choose something decent to wear.

After swallowing the second piece far too quickly, Dan rushed back up to his room to get dressed, pulling on his favourite black pair of jeans before pausing to find a shirt. Again, he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, but he should probably wear something better than a paint splattered hoodie. He dug through his drawers for a few minutes before finding one of his best casual shirts, a dark blue flannel one. He normally didn’t like wearing collars, but he thought a tshirt was probably a bit too casual. He stood in front of the mirror trying to fix his hair for far longer than he would like to admit, before throwing on a jacket and hurrying out to the car.

By the time they drove up to the gallery entrance, Dan’s mind was running in circles and going into overdrive, with trees and buildings flashing past the windows like photographs that had been left slightly out of focus, their shadows forming mottled shapes on his knees as they contrasted against the early morning sunlight.

As soon as the gallery came into view Dan was hit with a wave of awe, the striking stone building framed with a large terraced area out the front, the front entrance lined with pillars, the gaps between them sporting banners and signs showing off the latest exhibitions and installations. He didn’t know why art galleries always seemed to resemble the parthenon, with stone columns leading up to a towering facade, but maybe it was a mark of the true wonder they held inside. Dan glanced at the signs, the photographs of detailed and symbolic paintings slightly faded in the sunlight, and looking down, he saw that leading up to the front terrace was a short flight of steps, the splattered stonework taking visitors off the busy city street. His mother smiled as they stopped in a spot out the front, Dan quickly thanking her before stepping outside.

He always felt a little nervous when going out somewhere for the first time, so by the time Dan had reached the top of the steps his internal organs felt as if they were doing gymnastics. He soon spotted a small cluster of students from his class to one side of the large glass entrance, and hastily walked over to join them.

“Hey Dan,” Emily turned to greet him as he joined the small group, “I like your shirt,” she smiled as she turned to look at Sandra, who was busy looking through her bag.

“Oh, hi!” she looked up and smiled warmly, settling Dan’s stomach slightly by making him feel a bit more welcome. “I didn’t know if you were coming or not, it’s good to see you,” Sandra continued though, instantly smashing through Dan’s temporary illusion of confidence.

Was that a compliment? Dan thought as he felt a rush of blood to his cheeks. “Yeah, it’s great to see you guys too,” he managed to say, his exterior appearing a lot more composed than he actually felt. Was it okay to call them guys? his brain continued to backflip as he tried to stay calm. He’d have to figure out a way to actually function in their presence if he planned on spending a whole day with the two girls.

“Is that everyone?” Mrs Avery asked, scanning the group of students gathered around her. Dan flicked his eyes around, counting only seven others with him, although that was a pretty good turnout considering there were just twelve students in the whole class. “Oh, has Phil arrived yet?” she continued, looking through the group. “Has he contacted any of you?” A few pairs of eyes turned to Dan.

“I thought he wasn’t coming,” Dan said in a small voice, wondering why Mrs Avery thought he was meant to be here.

“Oh that’s a shame,” she said, looking down at her watch, “He did come to get a note from me this week, so I thought he might turn up.”

Dan shifted uneasily, wondering why he hadn’t said anything about it - maybe he took it just in case? Mrs Avery turned and started to lead them through the huge glass doors, her shoes clicking on the dark stone floor.

Just as they started to go through, however, Dan heard the sound of someone else approaching, jogging up the steps quite quickly, sounding somewhat short of breath. “Dan,” a familiar voice rasped out, finally catching up with the group.

“Phil?” Dan turned around.  _You’ve got to be fucking kidding me_ , he thought as he saw the boy standing before him. His breathing hitched as a wave of relief passed over his body, although this was combined with a little annoyance. He was so glad that Phil was actually here, and the majority of his nervousness had vanished, but would it really have been that hard to send a text? “I didn’t think you were going to make it!” he grinned, noticing the way Phil was standing looking slightly tousled and breathless, his hair having been assaulted by the wind. It looked so soft in the sunlight, but Dan just wanted to reach out and fix it as he noticed a strand flick over to the wrong side.

“Sorry,” Phil looked apologetic, but also seemed glad to be there, as Dan noticed. “I didn’t mean to get your hopes up,” he laughed a little, the tension in his shoulders easing noticeably.

Dan laughed, stepping backwards as the group continued to shuffle through the entrance. “It’s so great to see you,” he replied, finally deciding to reach up and fix Phil’s hair. He flinched a little as he saw Dan’s hand coming towards him, but relaxed when he flicked the strand over.

“Sorry,” Dan blushed, hoping he hadn’t come across as really strange, “you just had a bit of hair going the wrong way.”

“Oh… thanks,” Phil said, reaching up and ruffling the sides a bit and trying to catch his reflection in the glass doors to fix it properly. Dan smiled, glad that he wasn’t alone in caring about what his hair looked like.

“Now, we should all try to meet up at the exit at around eleven or twleve,” Mrs Avery’s voice came from the front of the group, slightly hushed as she tried not to disturb the other visitors. “You can go at whatever pace you like, but I do recommend staying in little groups, and make sure you read a few of the descriptions!”

As the group began to disperse, Dan saw Sandra and Emily head to one side of the first room straight away, not even waiting for him to catch up. He sighed, not really surprised, but actually coming to realise that right now, he didn’t really mind.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked Phil, who he was glad to see was still standing by his side.

“I don’t mind,” Phil smiled absent mindedly, already glancing around and admiring the paintings from afar, “But it would be nice to have a look at the impressionist section.”

Dan vaguely remembered reading about the artistic movement in one of the books he had borrowed, the paintings full of pastels, detailed brushstrokes and the beautiful use of light tones and sunlight. “Sure, sounds great,” he replied, noticing on the map that the room they wanted wasn’t too far away. Phil smiled back at him and started walking through the first arched doorway, leading the way. It was nice to see him confidently striding along, looking completely in his element surrounded by art. Dan almost let out a little ‘aww’ as he noticed Phil’s pikachu backpack, the yellow fabric bouncing against the back of his jacket as he made his way across the tiled floor.

After moving through a few doorways, passing countless paintings that Dan was sure they would want to go back to, Dan finally caught up with Phil, who he found looking at a landscape painting of a startling blue river by a city. He stood at a distance, letting himself take the whole thing in, completely astounded that the entire painting had been created just by adding layer after layer of paint, using a thin brush to move around the thick substance, almost every colour conceivable having been used to construct the reflection of the buildings in the water.

He felt like he could stay looking at one artwork for the whole day, as every time he blinked a new detail seemed to appear, his mind becoming entwined in the criss crossing and swirling movements of the brushstrokes. He walked a few paces to reach the next painting, admiring a light and airy looking picture of a woman sitting in a field full of flowers. It was crazy to think of the amount of time and effort that had gone into every single picture in here, and how all of them had a different story to tell.

“These are beautiful,” Dan murmured, turning to his side to see Phil standing beside him.

Phil faced the walls with a [ **look of sheer admiration**](http://pluginlester.tumblr.com/post/74316173342), Dan noticing how happy and wide his eyes looked as he gazed at the next painting. “Yeah,” he breathed, “I think this style is my favourite,” he said, Dan noticing his lips curving up into a smile.

They continued around the room, reading a few plaques next to the ones they liked the best, before moving into the next room, which seemed to be a more contemporary style. Dan loved looking at the artworks so much, and it was so interesting to see that today, people were still creating artworks with so much skill and meaning.

“It’s crazy how all these people managed to come up with such different ideas,” Dan thought out loud as they made their way underneath a huge floating paper construction, the hundreds of cutouts and layers forming the shape of a cloud. He glanced around the large room, and thought about how each of the artists must have started knowing absolutely nothing, and that everything they knew must have been learnt over years and years of work. “What made you start drawing?” he continued his train of thought and turned to Phil, who was examining a spindling wire sculpture of an aeroplane, filled with paper flowers.

The boy looked up, looking a little taken aback. “Oh, well… I don’t know,” he stopped, his eyes flicking upwards. After a slight pause, he continued, “I guess I started doing it for myself, like, I found it really calming and… it makes me happy,” he concluded, finally meeting Dan’s eyes.

Dan didn’t quite know what to say, his throat screaming in protest as he tried to think of an appropriate reply. “That’s great,” he croaked out feeling incredibly lame, but hoping his eyes somehow communicated how happy he was that Phil was doing something that made him feel good. “It makes me feel happy too,” Dan lowered his voice slightly, coming to the realisation that in the last few weeks, he had been at his happiest while sitting and painting next to Phil.

Every so often commenting on the beauty and magnificence of the artwork they saw, the pair moved from room to room, Dan constantly being completely stunned by the variety of styles and materials that had been used. Entire rooms were filled with installations and sculptures, with sophisticated lighting used to change the entire mood, yet some artworks took up hardly any space at all, instead bringing out an entirely different set of emotions. The best part for Dan, however, was being able to view it all with someone who cared just as much as he did, and being able to see Phil get just as excited and mesmerised as they were met with more and more stunning displays.

It was only as they were passing through the central atrium of the gallery, however, that Dan finally spotted a clock and realised they had been looking around for nearly three hours, a wave of panic surging through his abdomen. What time had Mrs Avery said they had to return by, eleven or twleve? It was already 11.45…

“We’d better be getting back,” he turned and grabbed Phil’s arm, not even thinking as he hooked it around and started pulling him along.

“Hey, I can walk for myself,” Phil laughed back at him, freeing his arm slightly.

“Sorry,” Dan hurried quickly along a corridor, trying to fight the blush that threatened to rise across his cheeks. He instantly lost his battle, however, as Phil’s hand dropped down to hold his. His hands were warm and soft, and it felt surprisingly nice as their palms slottet together, sending a flurry of butterflies through Dan’s stomach. He  _really_  needed to get a grip on his nerves.

After a few minutes of power walking through hallways and regretfully passing through a few rooms full of art that they still hadn’t visited, Dan and Phil finally found their to the exit, heading through a small gift shop to reach a well lit room, that looked like it joined onto the entrance foyer.

“There you are,” Sandra said as they rounded the corner and found the rest of the class group sitting on a few benches near the exit. Dan hastily dropped Phil’s hand, meeting his eyes apologetically. “We were starting to think you’d got lost,” she almost looked concerned, but seemed to only speak directly to Dan. His hands were suddenly very cold, and he shoved them into his jacket pockets.

“Ah, so we’re all here then,” Mrs Avery smiled, looking over to Dan and Phil before standing up to address the group. “I just thought I’d say, today has been absolutely lovely, and I hope this has really helped in terms of getting a few ideas and a bit of inspiration! In a few days we’re going to be finding out about a little project we’re doing in class, so I hope to see you all then,” she looked around the group and grinned, obviously having enjoyed her time at the gallery. “Make sure you stay safe if you’re finding your own way home, and don’t forget to do some practice during the week if you have any time!”

Dan turned back to Phil, hoping they didn’t have to say goodbye just yet. “So you’re getting the bus then?” he asked happily, guessing that he had probably caught it in the morning.

“Oh, no,” Phil replied, looking a little embarrassed, “I umm…” he looked around, watching as the rest of the class slowly made their way out the doors before continuing. “I rode my bike,” he said after a while, looking down and studying his shoes. He suddenly looked so shy and self conscious, but Dan couldn’t imagine him being any sweeter.

“Really?” Dan asked - that definitely hadn’t been what he’d expected, although it kind of made sense when he thought about the way Phil had rushed in to meet the group with ruffled hair, slightly short of breath like he had been running, or in this case, cycling. “That’s so cool,” he quickly continued, noticing how self conscious Phil looked.

Phil’s mouth formed a small smile, “you think?” he raised his eyebrows. “It’s pretty lame.”

Dan looked at Phil in disbelief, “No, it’s awesome!” he smiled, genuinely believing his words. He couldn’t even remember the last time he rode a bike, but it seemed so fitting for Phil to like it as a way of getting around.

“Thanks,” Phil blushed, his smile breaking into a full grin.

“No problem,” Dan said as they headed back towards the front entrance, the bright midday sunlight filtering through the arched glass opening, the golden beams of light slightly dappled as they broke through the layer of trees. He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful it was outside, it was almost a shame to be going home so early as it was only just past noon.


	6. Strawberry and Coconut

_… “No problem,” Dan said as they headed back towards the front entrance, the bright midday sunlight filtering through the arched glass opening, the golden beams of light slightly dappled as they broke through the layer of trees. He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful it was outside, it was almost a shame to be going home so early as it was only just past noon._

“So… I’d better get going,” Phil said, tilting his head in the direction of the bike rack to the side of the building. Dan’s heart sank slightly as he realised this was probably it, and in a matter of minutes they would both be going their separate ways. He really didn’t want to part now though, as they were already off to such a good start and there were still many more hours in the day.

“Oh okay… actually, um,” Dan began, causing Phil to look up, “You… you don’t have to go right away, we can get something to eat first if you want?” Dan tried to keep his voice steady as the words gushed out of his mouth, but he couldn’t help but stutter slightly as his throat seemed to freeze mid-sentence. He scanned Phil’s delicate features, searching for any possible signs of a negative reaction.

“Of course, I’d love to,” Phil’s face lit up. Dan smiled with relief as a look of genuine happiness quickly flashed across Phil’s face, the corners of his mouth curving up slightly. As he followed Dan down the steps, he smiled so sweetly, and Dan could hardly stop his heart from leaping in his chest.

They started walking down the main road, Dan not knowing exactly where they were going, but hoping to find a coffee shop or bakery to stop by at and grab some food. He was so conscious of the way his arms were swinging by his sides, and glanced down as his hand brushed against the edge of Phil’s sleeve, blushing instantly - God he’d been doing that a lot lately. He flicked his eyes to the side though and saw that Phil hadn’t even noticed, instead just looking so comfortable and at home walking down the busy street, his feet bouncing down the pavement in well worn shoes. Dan wondered if it would be acceptable to hold his hand again, his fingers aching to reach out and once again feel the warmth of Phil’s soft palm, but he somehow thought that what had happened before had been a strange one off; a special accident.

“How about here?” He asked as they reached a small patisserie about a block later, the smell of coffee, cinnamon and fresh pastry wafting through the air. Dan hardly would have noticed the small, hidden place if it wasn’t for the fragrant aroma wafting through the air, as the surrounding office buildings and shop fronts seeming to overpower the simple facade.

“Yeah, looks good,” Phil smiled up at the weathered front of the building, the stained brickwork giving the little shop a warm, rustic aesthetic.

The pair walked through the open door to enter the relatively small interior, the rich smell only intensifying as they walked up to the front counter. A girl in her twenties smiled at them from across the glass display of cakes and pastries, asking them what they wanted to order. Dan glanced up to the menu on the wall, noticing they only had a few simple variations on a plain cup of coffee, but he didn’t really mind as he asked for a cappuccino and almond croissant, Phil opting for a strawberry milkshake and a piece of coconut slice.

“Would you like to pay together or separately?” the girl flicked her eyes between the two of them, smirking from behind the display.

The thought rushed through Dan’s mind faster than he could even process, Phil’s delicate features just catching his attention, already reaching down to grab his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay,” Dan quickly interjected, earning a surprised look from Phil and causing the cashier’s lips to twitch upwards slightly in the corners.

“Oh… are you sure?” Phil looked concerned, his hair flicking slightly to the side as he tilted his head.

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” Dan assured him, handing over the money before Phil could convince him otherwise. He really did feel bad for being a bit selfish when they first met, and Phil just looked so kind and had been so nice to get along with that day, and he wanted to repay that somehow.

“Thanks,” Phil looked down to his feet, his cheekbones shrouded in a rosy flush.

“It’s my pleasure,” Dan said to Phil as they began to shuffle down to the the serving area, where the next employee was preparing their food and drinks. After waiting for a minute or two, they both grabbed what they had ordered and headed down to an empty table near the back corner, Dan leading the way to the cosy looking booth, the well worn fabric of the seats giving the small area a warm, enclosed atmosphere.

It was such a cliche to choose the small corner booth, slightly shrouded from view, and he could easily guess what anyone would think if they saw them there, but somehow Dan didn’t mind, and was kind of excited to just relax for a few minutes. He smiled as he realised this was the first time they’d actually done something together of their own accord, without just joining together during class or an organised trip.

Phil’s voice was the first to break the silence, his gentle tone easily slicing through the comfortable pause in their conversation. “So, what did you think of the gallery?” he asked, smiling sweetly before taking a sip from his straw. Dan watched as the level of pale pink bubbles in the tall glass lowered slightly, his eyes following the straw upwards and resting where it lead for a few seconds.

“It was amazing, I never expected to see so many things at once, it was just incredible,” he grinned as he thought back to the hours they had spent looking around.

“Yeah, it definitely was,” Phil smiled, looking around at the dark purple walls of the cafe, his eyes flicking around the simple rustic decor, “and it was great seeing you enjoying it.”

Dan took a small sip of his cappuccino to test the temperature, also as an attempt to stop the stupid smile that was trying to force its way between his cheeks. “I really liked being there with you too,” he said before busying himself in stirring in some sugar. He was glad nobody could really see them right now, as he was sure he was fast becoming a nervous mess, the little composure he had managed to muster up in the past few minutes quickly slipping through his fingers.

Phil took a bite from his piece of slice, Dan noticing the way a small dusting of icing sugar stuck to the ends of his fingers. “I actually thought you were going to spend time with the girls,” he said in a matter of fact way, taking Dan by surprise.

“Oh no, of course not,” Dan replied quickly, slightly taken aback. “A few weeks ago… maybe I would have,” he laughed nervously as Phil smirked, “but I’m not really all that interested in them in thatway…” His stomach churned as he thought of the possible implications of what he was saying. He just told a complete lie, or did he? They certainly weren’t the ones on his mind at the moment.

Phil nodded understandingly and took another sip from his milkshake. “I did always find them kind of intimidating,”

“Yeah,” Dan laughed in agreement as he thought of the countless times he had walked past Sandra at school, trying to build up the courage to say ‘hi’ as they approached each other in the corridor, more and more nerves building up with each step. Of course he had never managed to get a word out, which was kind of funny considering how it was Sandra’s group who had asked for him to sit with them for the first time.

“I guess they’re kind of nice to know once you start talking to them… but then again, so are you,” Dan continued, thinking back to the lessons he has spent with the two very different sets of company. He took a bite from his croissant, and had to admit it was pretty crap, the almond cream inside having soaked into the pastry for a little too long and the outside just a little too crusty and chewy, but he somehow couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I was actually kind of scared to talk to you for the first time,” Phil said thoughtfully, dusting off his fingers. “Like, everyone thinks I’m shy and nobody really goes out of their way to talk to me, but it was just really nice when you did.”

Dan felt his face reddening as Phil spoke, the words striking a chord somewhere in his chest. He felt as if the pit of his stomach had dropped as a wave of guilt washed back over him. Of course he had found it nice to talk to Phil, and he had really grown to enjoy his company over the last few weeks, but he hadn’t really stopped to think about how significant it was for the other boy. Talking to Phil had almost been negligible to start out with, a selfish stepping stone to make himself happier and get what he wanted, but it had actually meant a lot to the other boy; something that Dan hadn’t even thought about until now.

“Of course I wanted to talk to you,” Dan responded, his mouth operating a few steps ahead of his mind as he tried to grapple with a way of saying how he felt. “Honestly, I’d pick you over Sandra any day, I seriously love spending time with you in class.” Dan almost spoke without thinking, one word tumbling from his lips after the other.

The set of Phil’s shoulders changed slightly, Dan noticing them sliding down and backwards a little. “Thanks,” he said simply, although his eyes held much more than that, shining with genuine happiness and something else Dan couldn’t quite identify. “I’m glad we ended up working together, today has been great” Phil smiled.

“Yeah, same here,” Dan replied, his heart leaping in his chest. He was so glad that he’d made things more clear to Phil, but his mind was only left more muddled than before, a thousand feelings and urges bouncing around in his head. He’d now told Phil that he didn’t like Sandra or want to get with her, so did that mean he now had to act like he never liked her at all? Or did he not even need to act anymore?

Thinking about it, it might just be easier for him to just forget about her completely, and instead enjoy doing whatever art task they had been set for the lesson with Phil by his side. as that was what he was really coming to enjoy about art classes at the moment, but he couldn’t help but remember all those lessons at school staring at Sandra from across the classroom, being the reason why he joined the art class in the first place.

They sat in silence for a little while, their words resonating in the air and adding to the sweet smells and warm atmosphere. Dan was very aware of Phil’s leg resting against his under the table, their feet just crossing over as they sat facing each other. He watched as Phil took another sip from his milkshake, and couldn’t help but think about how cute he looked with the soft light filtering through the air mixed with the scent of coffee and baking; the faint rush of traffic and chatter of the coffee shop only adding to the perfect moment.

He slowly drank his coffee and looked at Phil’s hands, thinking about how strange it was that they could create such amazing things just by moving a pencil back and forth. He guessed that appearances could be deceiving though, as the first day in the art room when he greeted the shy boy with black hair, he would never have thought that he would end up being someone he could call a friend, and have such a fondness for.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, as he heard a faint buzzing from Phil’s pocket, the vibrating phone suddenly shocking him back to reality. Phil quickly unlocked it and made a slightly disappointed face, Dan noticing the furrow in his brow.

“I’ve got to go soon, my Dad will be worrying about me,” Phil said, taking a few more bites of his slice, trying to finish it off quickly.

“Oh,” Dan realised they had been sitting together for a while, and that sooner or later their outing would have to come to an end.

Phil checked his phone again and sighed. “I told him I’d be back by around twelve thirty, he just asked me where I am.”

Dan glanced up to the clock on the wall and was surprised to see it was almost one o’clock.

“Oh sorry… you should have told me if I was keeping you,” he thought about the possible consequences of Phil being late, and how it was probably his fault, but Phil shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I was having a great time, it’s no issue,” he smiled as he stood up properly and slung his backpack back over his shoulder, “but we should probably go sooner rather than later… I’ll just tell him there was a lot of traffic.”

“Yeah,” Dan smiled, “that sounds like a good idea.” He let Phil lead the way back to the front of the patisserie, catching a quick smile from the cashier who wished them a good day as they walked out the door.

Phil lead the way back to the gallery, walking slightly faster than normal with Dan trailing behind. He always seemed to be rushing off somewhere, Dan thought, as he cast his mind back to all the times he had rushed home from art class as soon as the lesson ended. Maybe his dad wanted him home early then as well?

After a minute or two they reached the front steps again, Phil rounding the corner and walking to the middle of the bike rack where his bike was chained onto one of the loops of metal. As he crouched down to turn the combination lock on the security chain, Dan felt slightly uneasy, realising his chance to do or say something more was quickly passing.

Phil turned to face him and smiled, pulling his helmet out of his bag along with some fingerless riding gloves, which he began to put on.

Dan couldn’t help but glance at Phil’s lips again, noticing a small smudge of icing sugar near the corner. The butterflies inside his chest had well and truly taken off again, their previously calm resting place now churning faster than a wind tunnel, the street around him now slightly out of focus.

“Thanks for today,” Phil smiled, his eyes crinkling in the most adorable way as he looked up to meet Dan’s gaze, pausing for a moment as he finished unlocking the security chain.

“No problem,” Dan replied, “I had an amazing time,” he clutched onto the handles of Phil’s bike to try and find some stability, each movement of his head sending his vision spinning.

“I guess I’ll see you on Thursday then,” Phil said, securing the straps of his helmet under his chin.

“Yeah,” Dan held the bike steady as Phil released the stand, trying to stop his hands from shaking as he realised the finality of Phil’s words. This was goodbye for the day. As Phil stepped forward to mount the bike, however, Dan leaned forward slightly and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before he could stop himself. It wasn’t much; the brush of lips on skin far too brief in his opinion, but it was enough to send his heart racing.

Dan looked down quickly, not wanting to catch a look of fear or disgust. “I’m sorry,” he began, finally meeting his eyes, but was cut off as Phil reached up to brush a strand of hair from his eyes.

“Shut up,” the dark haired boy laughed, holding Dan’s face still in his hand as he leaned in and joined their lips properly, the warm fabric of one of his gloves tickling against the edge of Dan’s jaw. He froze as Phil’s mouth pressed tenderly against his own, the light pink flesh far softer than he had anticipated. His lips opened ever so slightly in what must have been the most miniscule movement, but in that moment Dan was completely overwhelmed and was just about ready to melt into the pavement as he felt another hand rise up to gently curve around his neck. He wanted to reach out and entwine his arms around Phil’s waist, pulling him close, but his hands seemed to still be frozen in place, desperately grasping the bike handles as if it were his only link to reality; his only way of keeping this moment real.

He felt Phil tilt his head, his lips moving back and forth in the most delicate way, each tiny breath reverberating against his skin. In a strange way, time almost seemed to stand still, and although the simple exchange seemed to last for hours, upon parting Dan immediately thought it had hardly lasted for long enough at all, his lips left aching for more and tingling with the flavours of strawberry and coconut. It wasn’t rough or heated at all, and thinking back, Dan thought it was probably nothing more than a simple touch for a few seconds, but it had been absolutely perfect nonetheless, and his mind was left even dizzier than it had started.

Dan felt Phil’s lips curve into a smile as they began to part, and he couldn’t help but mirror the expression as he opened his eyes again. He didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to think of something that would do his feelings justice, but nothing came out. He instead let out a slight laugh as he heard Phil’s laughter echoing through the air, although it could have just been a slightly heavier breath than usual, as his mind was definitely not in full control of his mouth at this point.

“Was that okay?” Phil asked in a small voice, a deep shade of pink extending across his cheeks and almost onto his neck as he swung a leg over to sit on the bike and placed his hands on the handles, right next to Dan’s.

“Yeah, it… yeah,” Dan breathed, still lost for words as he smiled widely. Phil looked so happy, and he definitely felt the same way as the world around him came back into focus, the colours and lighting more vibrant than ever. Noticing Phil’s movements, the boy now seated on his bike, Dan remembered again that this was goodbye, and they couldn’t stand around forever, especially when Phil needed to get home soon.

Phil smiled, putting a foot on one of the pedals. “Maybe we should meet up again some time.” It was almost a question, but said with an air of confidence that Dan had only heard from Phil one or two times before.

“Yeah,” Dan grinned, stepping back a bit as Phil looked ready to go, “I’ll see you on Thursday though.”

“Yeah definitely,” Phil grinned as he adjusted his helmet again, the movement looking so natural and well rehearsed. Dan smiled as he imagined how normal this was for Phil, and thought about how he must have gotten ready like this hundreds of times before. His body seemed to fit perfectly on the bike, and the positioning of his limbs seeming so established and intuitive, the boy looking so at home sitting on the bike.

“I’ll see you then!” Phil called over his shoulder as he pushed off and started pedaling towards the road, using a driveway to get into the bike lane. After a few seconds of waiting, he carefully merged into the traffic, and Dan watched as he rode off, his shiny helmet and bright yellow bag disappearing quickly into the maze of cars, buses and taxis. He couldn’t tell if Phil disappeared incredibly fast, or if he just wasn’t paying attention in that particular moment, as his brain was probably more comparable to confetti than a list of organised thoughts right now.

Many minutes had passed, yet Dan could still hardly breathe, his hands left shaking even though he had shoved them in his pockets, as the moment replayed in his mind over and over. He had no idea what he would do when he got home, as he could hardly string one thought together after another, let alone say an understandable sentence. He was feeling so happy and giddy, like a schoolgirl with a crush, but at the same time felt completely amazing, and every second of bliss was definitely worth it. He knew it wasn’t what he had planned, in fact far from it, but it just felt so right, and he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he started to walk towards the nearest bus stop, every tiny detail bursting with radiance and beauty that he hadn’t been able to appreciate before.


End file.
